


Disconnect

by Kale-y (PechoraFlow)



Series: Promptober 2020 [14]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor is a Mess (Detroit: Become Human), Connor uses the Internet to look up Hank's symptoms, Gen, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, One Whole Mess, They're a mess, and panics a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PechoraFlow/pseuds/Kale-y
Summary: Hank is sick, and it's up to Connor to take care of him. The only problem? Hank is very irritable when he's feverish, and their relationship is still delicate.Connor finds himself navigating an emotional minefield, but what else is new?---Prompt: Sweet
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: Promptober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947931
Comments: 26
Kudos: 94





	Disconnect

Logically, Connor knew that humans could become afflicted in ways that androids simply could not. Sickness, old age, and disease were simply not a problem for him.

Some part of him had registered the possibility that Hank could also become sick, but he somehow had also adopted the notion that Hank was too stubborn to catch a cold. Knowing the police lieutenant, Connor would not be at all surprised if Hank was somehow able to banish any symptoms of illness.

In late January, two months after he had unofficially moved in with the lieutenant, he was up at 6AM exactly, just as he always was. He had set the coffee to brew, took Sumo out for a walk, then fed him and walked him again, and had just started to make breakfast when he heard a cough from Hank’s bedroom.

Naturally, for a few seconds, the sound did not compute. Surely Hank was just...clearing his throat, or...choking? He could be choking-

_He could be choking._

Connor immediately turned the stove off and ran to Hank’s door, his speed causing Sumo to look up from his place under the dining table. Sumo _boofed_ quietly, not sure whether there was a threat to scare off or not, but alert all the same.

“Lieutenant?” Connor called, knocking on Hank’s door. “Lieutenant, are you alright?”

More coughing, this time more intense and strained.

Connor’s insides twisted. He knew Hank liked his privacy, but…this counted as an emergency, right? Yes. Yes it did. With no further hesitation, Connor opened the door and initiated a scan.

SUBJECT: LT. HANK ANDERSON  
BORN: SEPTEMBER 6, 1985  
BODY TEMPERATURE: 100.2°F  
SYMPTOMS: COUGH, FEVER, NASAL IRRITATION, MALAISE, POSSIBLE SORE THROAT

CONCLUSION: COMMON COLD

“Lieutenant, are you-” Connor wasn’t even able to get through his question before Hank started coughing again, wheezing every now and then to force air into his lungs. Connor winced in sympathy. “I will call Fowler and let him know you’re taking a sick day,” Connor said, adding the item to his task list.

Hank groaned and swatted a hand in Connor’s direction, then rolled over - presumably to get more sleep. A brief search on the Internet revealed that common human symptoms included drowsiness, as well. He would have to look into other symptoms and treatments in a minute. For now, he had a call to make.

Shutting the door quietly behind him, Connor walked back into the kitchen, dialing Fowler’s number as he went. It was 7:18AM - not an unreasonable time, for Fowler. He waited as the call rang, then went through.

_“What?”_

“Good morning, Captain,” Connor said, choosing not to comment on Fowler’s blunt lack of a greeting. He had only been reinstated just a month prior, and he knew how many strings Fowler must have had to pull to get him the job. He could show a little grace. “I would like to request a sick day.”

 _“Sick day?”_ Fowler sounded incredulous. _“You can’t get sick._ ”

“Correct,” Connor said, “but Hank can. He requires a sick day as well - he has a fever at the moment. Given my ability to connect to the DPD remotely, I thought I would work on filing reports today. I can remain on call in case of emergency, of course.”

 _“You’ve got the days off anyway, Connor, might as well use ‘em,_ ” Fowler pointed out. _“Alright, but you better be busting your ass on those reports. I don’t want to see so much as a typo. Got it?"_

“Got it,” Connor answered. “Thank you, Captain."

 _“Make sure you come in tomorrow. On time._ ” The phone clicked, signaling that Fowler had hung up. In Connor’s periphery, the task CALL FOWLER was crossed off.

Making another list, he quickly pulled information off of the Internet regarding colds and what he should do.

SYMPTOMS: COUGH, MALAISE, FEVER, CONGESTION, RUNNY NOSE, IRRITATED EYES, GENERAL MUSCULAR ACHE, NAUSEA  
TREATMENT: OVER-THE-COUNTER MEDICINE, REST, HIGH FLUID INTAKE

He frowned. Did Hank keep any other medicine, aside from painkillers?

He searched through the kitchen cabinets, but found nothing. Perhaps in Hank’s room…? No. The lieutenant was sleeping. And what if he didn’t have any medicine? Then Connor would have woken him for nothing, and he would still have to go out to purchase the necessary items.

He had intended to go shopping this weekend - though he usually preferred to go with Hank. It took at least a half hour, and he liked the company. Hank would always point to the different brands and inform him of his personal opinion on their taste, plus any stories he had that were somehow tied to the item he had pointed out.

He would just have to go on his own.

Pulling up the grocery list he always had going, he added the cold medication, a small list of soups Hank might like based on previously expressed preferences, and a gallon of orange juice and a pack of ginger ale for good measure.

He pulled on his black beanie to cover his LED, then his jacket. He didn’t feel cold, but walking out in just his white button up Oxford shirt, dark jeans, and a tie would give him away. It was still unsafe for lone androids. Congress had just revised Title IX, making it illegal for organizations receiving federal financial assistance to discriminate between human and android, but there were still anti-android businesses and plenty of people willing to patronize them. Hank’s favorite store was one such business, though Hank had frequently told Connor he didn’t have to go there anymore.

 _“It’s just the closest one, that’s why I went to it,_ ” he had explained. _“I don’t care either way._ " But Connor knew it was his favorite for one reason: the store’s bakery. In an era where almost everything was created by machines, this store made bread, cakes, and other pastries by hand. He had been reliably informed by Hank that they tasted delicious.

Pulling on his boots, he gave Sumo a final pat on the head, then took Hank’s wallet and keys (hopefully he wouldn’t mind). He sent a text to Hank’s phone, letting him know where he was going, then set out.

* * *

As CyberLife’s most advanced prototype, Connor had enhanced strength and balance. Therefore, he was able to carry all the shopping bags in one go.

He reached a problem when he reached the front door. Fumbling with the bags, he managed to pick out the right key and unlock the front door, using his shoulder to push it open and using one foot to keep Sumo back.

“Need a hand?”

Connor looked up, surprised. Hank, his nose and eyes red, took some of the bags from Connor’s arms and started to move towards the kitchen. Confused, Connor ran a scan.

SUBJECT: LT. HANK ANDERSON  
BORN: SEPTEMBER 6, 1985  
BODY TEMPERATURE: 100.1°F  
SYMPTOMS: COUGH, FEVER, NASAL IRRITATION, EYE IRRITATION MALAISE, POSSIBLE SORE THROAT

NOTICE: GAIT IS SLOWER

CONCLUSION: COMMON COLD  
RECOMMENDATION: CONVINCE HANK TO RETURN TO BED

“Lieutenant?” Connor managed, following Hank into the kitchen. “What are you doing up? I thought you would be back in bed.”

“And I thought you would be in the house, but I guess you felt like I should wake up with a heart attack instead,” Hank countered, starting to unload groceries. “I called Jeffery, half-scared that you’d been kidnapped or some shit, and then he tells me that you’re making me take a _sick day._ ” Hank stopped what he was doing to point a glare at Connor. "Without asking me first.”

Connor frowned. “I was under the impression that-”

“You had the wrong impression,” Hank interrupted. He lifted a can out of the bag and made a face. _“_ _Italian wedding_? Really?”

Something in Connor twisted. “As I am unable to taste, I was trying to guess what kind you would like-”

“Not that.”

Connor blushed, setting the rest of the bags down and taking out the Tylenol bottle and cough syrup. “Will you at least take something? Medication is recommended-”

"Kid, I’m going to go watch last night’s game, and ignore it until I can walk straight,” Hank said, leaving no room for discussion. “I get a cold at least once a year, and I push through it no problem. I don’t need you trying to babysit me. I’m _fifty-three,_ for cryin’ out loud. I think I know how to get through-” Hank trailed off, a series of coughs interrupting him mid-sentence. He nearly doubled over, though at least it didn’t sound like a dry cough anymore. Something rattled in his chest, crackling in each cough.

Connor took Hank’s elbow as an offer of support, but as soon as Hank managed to suppress the coughing fit, he pulled away, choosing to use the back of the dining room chair instead.

Connor dug out a package of Menthol tablets and held them out to Hank. “Will you take the cough drops, at least?”

Hank, still suffering from somewhat labored breathing, stared at the package with a disdainful eye. Then, he swiped it from Connor’s hands, moving into the living room and muttering something under his breath. Connor was unable to make out the specifics, but he was almost positive he could make out, “Fuckin’ androids…”

The lieutenant, true to his word, sank down onto the couch and turned on the television, and soon, the sound of the Gears game filled the small house.

Connor checked his task list.

DIRECTIVES:  
MAKE BREAKFAST  
~~CALL FOWLER~~  
~~RESEARCH “COLDS”~~  
~~GROCERY SHOPPING~~  
PUT AWAY GROCERIES  
CONVINCE HANK TO TAKE MEDICINE  
CONVINCE HANK TO RETURN TO BED

Deciding to leave Hank alone (for now), Connor set about the kitchen, putting away the groceries he had bought but leaving the medicine out on the counter. He could Hank cough and sniffled occasionally in the room next door, each sound causing Connor’s need to _do something_ to increase evermore.

With the groceries put away in record time, Connor decided to risk checking in on Hank again. He went just to the threshold of the living room, not daring to quite enter the room. “Hank? Do you feel like you could eat something?"

“Yeah, sure, knock yourself out,” Hank answered dismissively.

“Any requests?”

Hank shot a baleful glare at him. “I don’t care, Connor. Do whatever you want.” And with that, his attention was back on the game.

Connor felt his worry begin to turn into irritation. He made a note in Hank’s file for future reference.

WARNING: LT. ANDERSON IS IRRITABLE WHEN ILLNESS IS IN EFFECT

Nevertheless, Connor went back towards the stove, quickly scrambling some eggs and putting some toast in. He had read that basic foods were most agreeable to sick humans, and he knew Hank wasn’t a picky eater.

Sliding the breakfast onto a plate, Connor also poured a glass of orange juice - fluid intake was just as important.

He eyed the remaining tasks in his task list.

DIRECTIVES:  
~~MAKE BREAKFAST~~  
~~CALL FOWLER~~  
~~RESEARCH “COLDS"~~  
~~GROCERY SHOPPING~~  
~~PUT AWAY GROCERIES~~  
CONVINCE HANK TO TAKE MEDICINE  
CONVINCE HANK TO RETURN TO BED

Infiltrating CyberLife was easier - and had better odds of success.

Connor turned to the medicine he had left out, taking two Tylenol pills (ACETAMINOPHEN, 1000mg) and poured the recommended dose of cough syrup into a transparent plastic measuring cup. He put the medicine on a lone saucer, then carried the food into the living room.

Luckily, he had chosen just the right moment - the game cut to commercial for a halftime break. Connor took the opportunity to move in front of Hank, blocking his view of the television. “Hey-”

“Lieutenant, I must insist,” Connor said, handing Hank the plate of breakfast, the juice, and putting the medicine on the coffee table. “Eat something, then take some medicine. I have been reliably informed that you will feel better, and it has added sweetener-”

“Connor,” Hank snapped, setting the breakfast on the table and standing up to his full height. The lieutenant was still taller than Connor, even sick. He jabbed a stern finger into Connor’s collar. _“Knock it off!_ I already _told_ you, I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

“I just wanted to _help,_ ” Connor said defensively.

“I don’t want your help!” Hank roared. “I was doing _just fine_ before you came along.”

Connor took a step back, as if he had just been physically struck. Though, upon further evaluation, he would have preferred a punch to the face over the sharp hurt in his chest. It felt like someone had impaled him and was twisting the weapon in his biocomponents.

“Alright, Lieutenant, if that’s how you feel,” he said, looking at a spot over Hank’s shoulder to avoid making eye contact.

Hank huffed, looking away. “That’s not what I meant-”

“I think I'm going to take a walk,” Connor said, and he moved toward the front door, pulling on his boots and coat. “I have reports to file, today. I will return later.”

“Wait,” Hank called, but Connor was already opening the door. “Connor- _stop,_ wait-!”

Connor shut the door behind him and set off, walking in the direction of the park where he sometimes took Sumo.

He forgot his cap.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be fluffy dammit
> 
> Connor was supposed to decide to annoy Hank, put a pillow on Hank's lap, lay on the pillow and force him to stay put and go to sleep and instead Hank goes and hurts Connor's feelings and Connor runs off- wHY cANT yOU dO aS I sAY-
> 
> I know Connor's reaction was an overreaction but hey, if the only knowledge you had of sickness was from WebMD you would freak out over everything too
> 
> Next part coming soon.......


End file.
